


Grilled Avocado (at Law)

by MagdaTheMagpie



Series: Marvel & Magic [31]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Interrogation, Kidnapping, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 00:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18927217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagdaTheMagpie/pseuds/MagdaTheMagpie
Summary: Foggy is being interrogated by idiots looking for Daredevil when a tourist walks in.





	Grilled Avocado (at Law)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marvelously Magical Bingo 2019! Here we go again!   
> Square N3: And yes, I'm using my free square right off the bat because the story didn't go as planned.

Foggy watches the two men keeping him prisoner out of the corner of his eye. He'd twist around for a better look, but he's all tied up like his Mom's Sunday roast and his body just doesn't twist that way. Not that he minds it too much. He'd rather be tied to this sturdy chair than dumped anywhere on this disgusting floor. This place is a  _ dump _ , and he means that in the worst possible way. It's a dump even by Hell's Kitchen's standards, and he knows he's not anywhere near his neighbourhood or Matt would have already found him and beaten the crap out of these idiots. Foggy pushes a broken bottle of vodka away with the tip of his shoe and swears that as soon as he gets out of here, he’s going to make sure this public hazard of a building gets torn down before it falls on someone's head, and if there is already an injunction to demolish the place, God save the fool who wayled the proceeding because he is going to rain lawsuits that'll make hellfire feel like a tickle in comparison. 

“What do you mean he's not talking? I heard him blabber his heart out all the way down the hall.”

“Yeah, he's talkin’ alright, but he ain't really sayin’ anythin’.” Foggy tsks when his interrogator tears at his hair again. At this rate he'll be bold before the night is out. “ _ You _ try it if you think you're so fuckin’ smart. I can't no more. I'm gonna… I… I have to go. I need my triple frappuccino fudge creme. Now. Just this once. I won't be long.”

“A what now? Didn't ya quit that shit a month ago?”

“Don't tell Doris or she'll kill me.” 

“It's the sugar that'll kill you!” his new interrogator shouts at the other's back, then turned to look at him through narrowed eyes. 

Foggy put on his best “I'm-just-a-helpless-avocado” expression. He was a man of many talents after all, and he'd taken that one class in theatre in fourth grade. If he had to guess, the new guy wasn't buying it. He approached, crab-like, in his direction and flipped out a butterfly knife. Foggy tried not to laugh, he really did, so he talked instead. 

“Fun fact: the chances of getting injured using a butterfly knife instead of a regular one increases by 400%”

“Oh, is that what you've been doin’ then? Talkin’ shit and stuff. Won't work on me, buddy.” But Foggy, unlike his best-friend-who'd-better-get-his-ass-here-soon, isn't blind, and he can plainly see the guy is handling his knife with much more care than before, as if he just realised his goldfish is a shark. Amateur. “I think me pal has gotten too  _ lee-nee-ent _ on you. I'm gonna make you squeal.”

“I'd be happy to answer any questions you have. No need for violence. I'm a pacifist. And I  _ love _ answering questions. It's like a vacation for us lawyers just answering questions. That's the easy part. Go on, then.”

The blade pauses, inches from his nose, making Foggy go all cross-eyed. Butterfly-man pauses as if waiting for a trap to spring. When it doesn't, he clears his throat. 

“Word is, you know how to summon the devil.”

“Sure.”

“Well? Spit it out, you dope.” 

“It's easy, really. First, you draw a pentagram, that's a star with five points, look it up, because the six pointed star summons whole wheat bagels and no one likes those, they'll just mold in the back of your pantry. Four candles for-”

“Shut up! Not the devil-devil! The other one. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen.”

“You really need to be more specific. See, that's what I said. Answering is easy, but getting the questions just right, with no loopholes and no chance of misinterpretation, now that's where you really need to rub your two brain cells together.”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up and answer my fuckin’ question!” 

And now the spittle begins, which must be a new record. This guy has a short fuse compared to the last one. Foggy knows he shouldn't be having this much fun, but it's so  _ easy _ to rile them up _ ,  _ and they can't even threaten him into talking because he  _ is  _ talking. A lot. Avocados make the best hostages. It's their craft to use words against others in defense of… Well, himself in this case. 

“He's just an urban legend. Don't know why you're dragging  _ me _ into this. Next you'll be asking me for Santa's address and how to cook the Easter Rabbit. I'm not a lawyer for the fairytale-inclined. Not much demand for that sort of thing, although I do represent this guy who dresses up as Spiderman, but it's not  _ actually  _ him. Gets into loads of trouble though, that guy, swinging from balconies and stuff. People think he's a robber most of the time, but he's just one of those YouTube-”

“Shut your mouth!” Butterfly-man runs a hand through his hair. He's thinking so hard, poor thing, that Foggy  an almost see the cogs grinding painfully under his thick skull. “We  _ know _ you know him. Saw you two talkin’ together, all cosy like. I'd wager you even know who he is under the mask.”

Foggy would be impressed by this moron’s sudden insight if the blade wasn't getting too close for comfort. He's still counting on him being all talk with no backbone to actually draw blood. Time to switch things around and make him talk for a bit. What he wouldn't do to play for a little time. 

_ Where the hell are you, Matt?  _

“What do you want with him anyway?” Foggy asks with exaggerated curiosity. If he were Karen, he'd be batting his eyelashes too. “You've seen the stunts he pulls. You're not gonna take him down with your little toothpick there.”

“Oh, we don't wanna take ‘im down. We wanna make ‘im work for us.”

Foggy blinks up at him. Yeah, okay. He lost him there. 

“And how do you achieve that? I mean, it's genius if you can, but I just don't see how.”

Butterfly-man smiles. No dental in this line of business apparently. 

“Everyone has someone they care about: a girl, kid, parents, even a friend will do in a tight spot. Can make anyone do anything to keep'em safe. Bet even the Devil does. Someone must have birthed that sonofabitch, right?”

Foggy scowls at him, because that might actually work on Matt. He doesn't have a lot of people he let get close to him, but those he does, he would do  _ anything _ to protect. If he finds them first, it's all fine, but if he doesn't, the way he's not finding him right now, then he'll think he doesn't have a choice. Foggy is trying to think of a way out of this situation for the both of them when there's a knock at the door and a lady's head pokes through the opening. 

“Oh. Hi. Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. I'm just looking for a friend. You haven't seen him by any chance? Short, green eyes, messy black hair and round glasses. No?”

They both shake their heads in bewilderment. She really didn't belong in these parts. Not only because of her posh accent, but also because she seems much too nice and innocent for such a dark, disgusting place. 

“Alright. Well, thanks anyway. Have fun.”

Her head disappears, taking with it her wild mane of curly hair. Foggy meets his captor's eyes and they stare at each other for a moment. 

“That was weird, right?” Foggy asks. 

“Fuckin’ weird alright.”

“Ah, sorry again.”

The strange lady is back, only she steps into the room this time and her former congenial expression is gone as she looks at them in turn. 

“Just to make sure, this is consensual, right?” 

“What? What the hell does that even mean?” 

“Means we're both willing participants,” Foggy says with a heartfelt sigh. “You know those people who go door to door selling dictionaries? You should consider investing.”

The lady snorts. Score for Foggy Nelson! 

“Get out of here, bitch!”

“Or what?” she says and Foggy is impressed because she doesn't look the least bit afraid, which he doesn't understand, because she's  _ tiny _ and doesn't have a weapon that he can see. 

Maybe she has mace in her pocket. Yeah, that must be it. Still, stupidly brave of her. 

“I'll make you,” Butterfly-man growls and there he is flipping his damn knife again, but at her instead of him. 

“Hey, just let her go, okay. She's obviously not from around here.”

“Yeah. That's even better. No one will know to look for her.”

“That has to be the worst pick-up line ever. Where did you find it? The handbook for lonely serial-killers?”

This time, it's Foggy who chuckles despite himself and his captor throws him a dirty look. 

“Only, it didn't go so well for the last guy who threatened me. It was on my way here, actually. He threatened to gut me because I'd spilled his stupid frappuccino coffee or something. I can't say I'm enjoying my trip to New-York so far, and-”

The knife flashes forward. Looks like he had it in him after all. Foggy is struggling against the rope and cursing his heart out, but he stops when he realizes she's fine. The Butterfly-man on the other hand, is not. He's screaming in terror as blue flames creep up his arm and he drops his knife, backing away from her. Foggy’s mouth is hanging open. He's seen some weird shit over the years but he doesn't think he'll ever get used to it, and this is new. She wiggles her fingers and the blue flames turn into ropes, coiling all around him while he's crying and begging and, Foggy is pretty sure, pissing himself. 

“Let that be a lesson to you,” she says, unmoved by the fact she turned a full grown thug into a sobbing puddle. It's all kinds of terrifying but the shiver of anticipation he feels when she looks at him has nothing to do with fear. “Well, shall I untie you? I have a feeling you don't belong here.” 

Foggy nods, not so eloquent all of a sudden, especially when his ropes just fall away. He stands and rubs his wrists  trying to shake his body awake after having been tied down so long. 

“Are you hurt?” she asks. 

He shakes his head. 

_ Damnit, Foggy, get a grip on yourself!  _

“Thank you.” Good. The words have returned. “You're not quite the rescuer I was expecting, but I can't say I'm disappointed.”

_ Although Matt is going to get an earful when he next sees him.  _

She actually blushes. Wow. This is awesome. Pushing his luck, Foggy offers her his hand. 

“I'm Foggy. Foggy Nelson. It's a pleasure to meet you…” 

“Hermione. Granger.” 

She shakes his hand and it's a completely normal hand. He'd half expected it to be warm from the blue flames. 

“Can I buy you a coffee? I'd love to show you the  _ nice _ parts of New York, so you're not left with a bad impression.”

She hesitates. Fuck. Maybe he read her wrong. Never matter. It won't be his first rejection. He's practically a champion at it. 

“I'd love to, but…”  _ There it is.  _ “I really am looking for my friend. He's always getting into trouble.” 

Foggy bobs his head in understanding. He'd almost forgotten why she had been here in the first place, but he completely understands how she feels. 

“Can I help you look for him, then? I know the city pretty well.”

“You want to? Don't you need to go to the police, or rest from the shock or something?” she asks with a dismissive wave at the bound man in the corner. 

“Nah. This isn't my first kidnapping.” Her eyebrows shoot up. “I have a friend who's always getting into trouble too,” he explains. 

Speaking of, Foggy goes to retrieve his bag they threw near the window and digs out his phone. Twenty calls. All from Matt. At least he  _ noticed  _ he'd gone missing. Foggy calls him back immediately before he burns the city down and checks out the window for an address. Wouldn't you know it? Just outside of Hell's Kitchen. 

“Foggy! Where are you?” 

It's his growly voice so he must be in his devil suit. Foggy gives him the address and hangs up. 

“Are you a policeman?” Hermione asks. 

“Oh no. I'm a lawyer. I was just checking in with a friend. He'll be here soon and I'm sure he'll be able to help find this friend of yours too.  _ Then, _ I can thank you properly and offer you coffee?”

She laughs.

“Persistent. I like it. And yes, I'd love to.”

Foggy grins back, his heart beating a mile a second. He is probably in over his head, but he can't wait to see how a date with a woman this formidable turns out. 

“Foggy.” 

He jumps out of his skin at the sound of Matt’s devil voice right behind him. Hermione did too by the looks of her and she looks about ready to attack. 

“Jesus Fucking Christ! I told you not to sneak up on me like that.”

“And I told you not to blaspheme, so we're even. Who's this?”

Matt is tilting his head at his date-to-be, looking much too interested for his liking. 

“This is Hermione. Hermione, this is my friend, Daredevil. I don't know where you've been, but  _ she _ rescued me from  _ that guy. _ ” He points at the bound man. “Who was looking for  _ you _ , by the way, so you owe me.”

“Really?” Matt drawls. 

“Yep,” Foggy nods his head for emphasis. “Hermione is looking for her friend, so if you could help us locate him, that'd be great.”

“Well, I don't know how many Hermione there are in New York right now, but there's an idiot shouting that name in the middle of my city as we speak. He's British by the sound of it, and he's… different.”

“That's him!” Hermione chirps. “Has to be. Can I just go scold him real quick? Then we can go to dinner. You must be starving.”

The night just keeps on getting better and better. Matt gives him a discreet thumbs up, then goes to pick up Butterfly-man and waves them goodbye before somehow disappearing into non-existent shadows. Matt has  _ got _ to teach him how to do that. Dead useful. Foggy turns towards Hermione and offers her his arm, before they walk out. It's like they didn't meet in the worst way possible. 

  
  



End file.
